A Cuck’s Christmas Offering: Her Ultimate Wish Fulfilled
This Christmas, I gave my wife the only gift she’d ever truly hesitated to take—the one her heart and body craved, but her love for me had always held back. For years, she’d confessed her wildest fantasy: to be taken bare, to be bred by her favorite bull, while I knelt in chastity at their feet. And in the throes of her orgasm, to feel my caged balls spanked hard, tying my pain to the peak of her pleasure.
She’d always smiled wistfully after describing it, squeezing my hand, kissing my forehead. “It’s too much, love. I could never do that to you, especially in winter. You know how pain lingers when the air is cold…”
But this December, I insisted. I told her nothing would make me happier than to serve as the vessel for her ecstasy, no matter how much it hurt. Her eyes grew dark and hungry, lips parted, cheeks flushed with excitement and guilt.
I kissed her fingers, pressing my face into her palm. “This is my gift to you. I need to see you let go. Don’t hold back for me. Let yourself be free—I want to be the one who takes the pain, just for you.”
After some nervous giggles and searching my face for any doubt, she finally nodded. “Alright, my love. If you’re sure.”
We spent Christmas Eve preparing. She devised a little mechanism: a wooden bar, padded but heavy, suspended just below my balls as I knelt on a thick rug at the foot of our bed. A thin rope ran through a pulley to the headboard, easily within her reach. With a sharp pull, the bar would snap upward into my locked, vulnerable flesh.
We tried it once—just a gentle tug. My breath left my lungs in a hiss. She watched my face, torn between arousal and concern. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, chest pounding. “Perfect. Now you can cum as hard as you want, and I’ll feel every bit of it.”
Christmas Day. The lights were low, soft carols played somewhere distant. My wife looked radiant—red silk robe slipping off her shoulders, her favorite lingerie already discarded, and her skin glowing with anticipation.
Her bull arrived—tall, muscular, skin like polished ebony, eyes focused on her with a predator’s intent. I greeted him, trembling with a mix of jealousy, excitement, and pride.
She led him to our bed, beckoning me to kneel at the foot, my chastity cage locked tight, balls exposed and trembling above the bar. The air felt sharper on my skin. My heart pounded in my throat.
As their bodies met, my world became pure sensation. I watched him take her, strong hands gripping her hips, her legs thrown wide, his cock disappearing inside her with a slick, wet sound that made me ache. No condom. She’d wanted him raw, wanted to feel him truly breed her.
Their moans grew louder, rougher. I knelt there, shivering, clutching the floor, my cage straining with desperate, denied need. My wife’s eyes locked with mine over her shoulder, her mouth falling open as he drove deep, his rhythm relentless.
Then her hand found the rope. She paused, breathless, sweat shining on her skin. “Are you ready, my love?” she asked, voice shaking.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Do it. For you. I want your pleasure—let it all out.”
Her bull began pounding into her harder, and my wife surrendered—her head thrown back, gasping, crying out as she came. At the exact moment she started to break apart, she yanked the rope.
The bar snapped up, smashing my caged balls. The pain was electric, white-hot, racing through my body and wrenching a howl from my lips. My vision blurred, tears stung my eyes, but I watched her face as she climaxed—eyes wild, body convulsing, hips pressed tight against her bull as he emptied himself inside her.
She collapsed onto the bed, shuddering with aftershocks, her legs shaking, cum leaking from her open cunt. I knelt there, still trembling, my balls throbbing, but my heart bursting with pride.
She crawled to the foot of the bed, cupping my face with shaking hands, kissing my forehead. “You’re incredible… you gave me everything. I’ve never felt so loved, so free…”
I looked up at her, the pain fading into a deep, glowing satisfaction. “Merry Christmas, my queen,” I whispered. “Thank you for letting me suffer for your pleasure.”
She smiled, tears in her eyes, and pulled me close. “Merry Christmas, my beautiful cuck.”
That night, I drifted to sleep still caged, aching, with the scent of her breeding and her love all around me. And for the first time, I knew I’d given her the most perfect Christmas gift of all.
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